


Tales of the Targaryen Wolf and the She-Bear

by templarhalo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Berserk (Anime & Manga), Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aegon VI Targaryen and Jon Snow are Siblings, Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Arthur Dayne Lives, As if I wasn't making the parallels between him and Guts in my Golden Company fic clear enough, BAMF Jon Snow, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow is a Stark, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon is a snarky violently overprotective little shit, Jon wields the Dragonslayer., Like Theon he never needed to choose, Not for fans of the Lannisters or Viserys, Queen Elia Martell, oath family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:25:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templarhalo/pseuds/templarhalo
Summary: “Robbed of a mother’s love at birthleft to drown in blood.he was to die beneath her corpse.Meant to rot in a cesspit of despair,born to die as a waste of air.Raised as a child one shorn of fatein a fit of ragehe, knows a violent destinywill await, only life by sword shall reign.”    The weirwood tree sang in a haunting voice.Arthur Dayne looked at the babe asleep in Eddard Stark’s arms, then to Elia and his sister.  He turned to Oswell Whent, who, was the only other  person besides him in the godswood whose jaw hadn’t dropped at the very real chance  the Gods had just spoken to them.“Fuck you Rhaeger!” The Sword of the Morning screamed.  “Fuck your prophecies, Fuck  the Old Gods and fuck whatever they have planned for this boy!”Lyanna Stark died far from home, giving birth to a child born of rape and the madness of prophecy. By all rights the babe should have joined her in death.But this child  will struggle.  He will contend. He will endure,  for he is one who defies fate.His name is Jon Stark, and he is a dragon raised by wolves.





	1. Chapter 1

"Please Ser, we don't want no trouble." The Peasant implored.

 

Ser Mynar Blackwood sneered.

 

"If you didn't want any trouble you wouldn't be refusing to handover the taxes owed to your liege Lord.  Mynar sneered. The knight of House Blackwood was tall and handsome, with hawkish features and grey eyes.  He wore black plate with a cloak of black feathers and red silk draped across his shoulders.

 

The Peasant standing in front of him, Jared or Ethan or whatever the commoner’s name was wore brown roughspun, and a ragged and matted sheepskin cloak.  He was barefoot and stopped with age.

 

"We been serving House Bracken for generations.  Our taxes have always gone to the coffers at Stone Hedge.  Been that way for my father and his father and his father before him."

 

"Well you and your land belonged to House Blackwood, and I am here to take it back."

 

"You and ten men huh?  Well m'lord I don't want to tell you this but  If you think this land belongs to your house speak with Lord Tully or send a raven to the King and let him decide.  I'm just a stonecutter. Unless Lord Tully or King Aegon says otherwise, we're not handing over one copper or bushel."

 

"I will not be dubbed a liar by a commoner!" Mynar roared.  He punched the old man in the chest. He collapsed to the ground with a wheeze.

 

"Grandfather!" A little girl cried out from behind her mother's skirts.  

 

"Stay back Ella!" The old man said.

 

Mynar turned to them.   

 

"Your daughter is quite comely." Mynar let his words hang in the air.

 

"Please Ser.  My Bianca’s a good woman.  She never done anybody wrong or wished ill on anybody."

 

"Your daughter has a fine pair of teats.  I think i'd like the feel of them in my hands." Mynar said

 

"And you call yourself a knight!" The old man wheezed.  He tried to rise, but Mynar kicked him hard in the chest.  Than stomped on his arm and face. The snap of bones weakened by age filled the air.

 

Mynar was just about to order his men to kill a few of the peasants for good measure when he heard the sound of  a pair of galloping horses

 

A young man of ten and seven and a girl of ten rode up to them.  The man was of average height and build, clad in back boiled leather and chainmail with a ragged and patched grey cloak thrown over it.   The cloak’s silver clasp combined the sigil of two great houses. The three headed red dragon of House Targaryen and the snarling direwolf of House Stark.   Slung across his back was a massive sword, dark as night, with a hilt swathed in bandages and no guard at all, His hair was black and pulled back in a bun, and his eyes were a cold grey.   

 

The girl at his side was short and skinny, with  mouse brown hair that fell past her shoulders, she was dressed in queer garb for a lady.  Breeches and a green and black tunic with a cloak made from the pelt of a black bear thrown over the ensemble.   An axe and long dagger were at her hip .

 

The man dismounted, his companion did not, but instead  glared at Mynar with contempt.

 

“Hail,   I assume you were going that help that old man up?” He asked in a Northern purr.  

 

“I-  

 

“No? shame on you than.”  The Northman bent down and helped the old man to your feet.

 

"I saw you once a year ago. At the Tourney of Harrenhal." The old man stammered.  " Your King Aegon's brother aren't you? You're the Targaryen Wolf!"

 

A murmur  broke out through Mynar's men.  

 

"The Targaryen Wolf is here?”     “Impossible " If that's really him we don't stand a chance."

 

The young man smiled grimly.  "Indeed I am. My name is Ser Jon Stark.   Over there is my squire and future good sister Lady Lyanna Mormont."

 

He turned to face Mynar.  "Judging by your rather ugly face I'm assuming you're a Blackwood.  You're not one of Lord Tytos' sons are you?

 

"My name is Ser Mynar Blackwood.   I'm the second son of his cousin."

 

"I see, and what are you doing on Bracken land?  If you're on your way to the Tourney celebrating my brother's name day you and your escort are going the wrong way." Jon said softly.

 

"We're here to take the taxes owed to us.  This land is House Blackwood's. And we're here to take it back."

 

"If this is true. I'm assuming your  bear Lord Tytos, Lord Tully and my brother's seal, authorising you to do this?" Jon said.

 

Mynar did not.

 

"If you do not, then perhaps you can escort my squire and I to Raventree Hall, so I might speak  to Lord Blackwood regarding this land dispute? Lyanna and I had the pleasure of supping with Lord Bracken, and he seemed to be a reasonable man. I'm sure Lord Tytos is just as well balanced in his humors.  And if they could not work out an arrangement the two of them could accompany me to King's Landing and my brother, Aegon could assist in resolving this problem."

 

"I need no seal. This was Blackwood land, and it will be again! Leave us to our duty bastard!" Mynar snapped.

 

"I'm afraid I can't do  that friend. You see unlike you.  I am a knight, sworn to defend those who cannot defend themselves.  These people have done you no wrong. Leave them in peace or there will be violence."

 

"Of course there will be violence!" Mynar laughed.  "There's eleven of us and only you and that snip of a girl."

 

Before Mynsr could say anything eles,  Jon's left arm seized him by the neck and hoisted him off the ground.  

 

Mynar clawed at the arms lifting him off the ground.  "Shoot him!" Mynar rasped.

 

One of his men drew an arrow, but before he could knock it, Jon flung Mynar at his subordinate, knocking the archer off his horse and leaving him and his superior with a mix of bruised flesh and shattered pride.

 

In one smooth motion, Jon cast off his cloak and drew his weapon.

  
  


It was too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was only able to be wielded in battle due to being forged  of Valyrian steel.

 

The blades name was Dragonslayer.  And no one besides Jon Stark had wielded it in battle since before the Doom of Valyria.  

 

Two Blackwood men at arms rushed him, Falchions raised high.

 

Jon slew both men in one swing. The blade made a wet Clang! sound  as it parted mail like butter and carved both men in half in a flurry of blood and severed limbs.  

 

Lyanna had seen her master and future good brother fight many times.   Few men or women were deadlier than Jon Stark, and those that were all possessed far more battle experience than him.

 

A mounted yeoman charged him, his sword flashing.  Jon severed his arm in a blur of motion. The Blackwood lackey fell from his mount, screaming in horror  and shock. Jon swung his oversized sword around in an arc and raised it high.

 

A third mounted man charged with cavalry spear in hand and a curse on his lips.   Jon sidestepped him and let the blade fall, Rather then spit the man in half or behead his horse, the Dragonslayer fell right behind the man’s saddle and tore the horse in Twain.  The man tumbled and his neck snapped.

 

“You…. you.  Bastard!” Mynar screamed,

 

“A legitimized bastard,  false knight.” Jon said.

 

“K-Kill him! Kill him now!”  Mynar screamed to his men.

 

Instead of obeying his command.  His surviving men threw down their weapons and yielded.

 

Further adding to his humiliation was Mynar's realisation that he had pissed and shit himself.

 

* * *

 

Tytos Blackwood only knew Ser Jon Stark by his reputation, but it  was a fearsome one. The Targaryen Wolf was known for being honorable  and chivalrous... and being bloody handed. The Stranger followed him like  a moth to a flame, for wherever Jon Stark went, corpses usually appeared.

 

Everyone knew his origins.  Borne of rape, he would have died beneath his mother's corpse had not the Kingsguard  Rhaegar assigned to guard her spirited the babe and his mother to Starfall. His mother Lyanna Stark had begged with her final words for him to be legitimized not as a Targaryen,  but a Stark.

 

And so the Queen Regent Elia Martell did so. While  many believed, the kind gracious Elia, did so because Lyanna Stark was a victim of her husband's madness, others said she did it so  her husband's bastard would not be in the line of succession and pull another Daemon Blackfyre.

 

Nevertheless, at the age of 8, Jon Stark was summoned to serve as Elia's  cupbearer and page to both Lord Commander Selmy and Ser Arthur Dayne. Jon's half brother Aegon was also serving as Arthur's Page and the two boys  became first friends.

 

Even at that tender age, rumors circled around the boy. How he read as much as his father and how that same aura of melancholy and grief surrounded  him. How in his first month at the Red Keep he had savagely attacked Prince Viserys and would have gouged out his eyes had the Kingsguard not hauled him off the older boy.  

 

Many believed the incident had lent  truth the rumors that the Prince of Dragonstone had been abusing his younger sister.  For after that Queen Elia sent her nephew back to Dragonstone, while Princess Daenerys  remained in the Red Keep.

 

As the boy grew to manhood, his reputation grew more fell and outlandish.    Many started calling him Daemon Blackfyre come again when he began wielding the ancient  oversized Valryian steel sword known as Dragonslayer. Rumors that he had bedded with wildling women abounded after King Aegon made his royal progress and found himself  working with Lord Commander Mormont and Lord Stark to repel another King beyond the Wall.

 

Some whispered that while the royal party was in Dorne,  The Princess Arianne Martell had invited both Ser Stark and King Aegon to her bed, but it had been Ser Stark who deflowered her.  Others whispered he had lain with all of Prince Oberyn's daughters.

 

But regardless of who he had  lain with, what gave Jon Stark such a formidable reputation was his phenomenal skill as a True Knight.     While his brother dominated the jousts, Jon Stark racked up numerous victory in the melees. He had only lost twice.  Once to Ser Arthur Dayne, the other to his Sister's Sworn Sword Brienne of Tarth. He was called Ironbane in the west for  the sheer carnage he had wrought on the Ironborn. He had taken Euron Greyjoy's head as a gift for his betrothed. It was said no Stark since King Theon  the Hungry Wolf had struck such fear in the hearts of the Iron Islanders.

 

He had fought  three duels, each one within a few days of each other  as well. The first one against Lord Randyll Tarly, the second against Ser Axell Florent, and third against his brother Lord Alester.

 

A few weeks after King Aegon's royal progress, his  betrothed Margery Tyrell had come to court. Accompanying her and her family were numerous lords and landed Knights.

 

When He and  his brother were recounting their exploits over dinner Ser Stark  singled out Lord Tarly's son Samwell for praise. The boy was a steward in the Night's Watch and according to Jon had shown great wisdom and valor.   Apparently the boy was to become a Maester as well.

 

Lord Tarly had dismissed such praise, saying his son was a weakling who would  bring further shame and dishonor upon his house.

 

Jon Stark replied that there was just as much honor in serving as a Maester as the was as a knight, but Lord Tarly retorted by saying   what honor was there in bowing and scraping before Lords?

 

Incensed at Lord Tarly's words, the young knight challenged Lord Tarly to a duel.

 

The next morning the two fought a duel that ended in two blows.

 

The first blow shattered Lord Tarly's sword and took his eye,nose and half his face.   The second blow tore off his left arm. His pride and body crippled. Lord Tarly quit the capital as soon as he was fit enough.

 

King Aegon later remarked that Tarly's vile and unmanly attitude was not welcome at court and that it would be best if what was left of his face appeared sparingly

 

The second duel was a day after the wedding tourney held in honor of King Aegon's marriage.   During the midday feast. Lord Axell Florent, who was deep in his cups made a cruel jape regarding the Lady Ashara Dayne's virtue.

 

Jon had rose and told him that Lady Ashara was as much a mother to him as his own and ordered him  to recant his words or he would cut the man in half. Ser Axell had laughed and stated "I'm not scared of an upjumped bastard compensating for his tiny cock  by carrying an oversized backscratcher into battle "

 

An hour later Ser Axell had been cut in half from a single stroke of Dragonslayer.   The Maesters tried and failed to reattach the lower half of his torso to the rest of his body.  He lingered in great agony for three days before he expired.

 

Lord Alester Flroent was furious at his brother's death.

 

"My brother was a True Knight, a man of high birth who was murdered because he called a whore a whore.  I will not let this go unanswered, King's half brother or not. " the Lord of Brightwater Keep said

 

"I seem to recall swearing  an oath to protect all women, not sully their name and drag their reputation through the mud."  Ser Stark had snapped in reply.

 

Jon than  dealt him a blow that had cleaved him in half from  head to groin. After that House Florent cut their losses and King Aegon declared the matter settled.

 

Needless to say, having to settle matters with a man who was a consummate killer,  did not enthuse Lord Blackwood.

 

Especially when he entered Raventree Hall with Bracken men, including Lord Jonos’ nephew Henry at his side.

 

The men Tytos has sent to drag the idiotic, shortsighted son of his  cousin back to Raventree Hall were with them as well Along with the surviving guardsmen Mynar had taken with him.  His cousin's son was bound in chains and gagged with what appeared to be a set of dirty girl’s smallclothes and a pair of socks.  

 

"Lord Blackwood.  I would say it's. a pleasure to meet you, but given the circumstances that led me here it is really not."

 

"I see the tales of your bluntness were not exaggerated." Tytos said with  a snort.

 

"All tales have a kernel  of truth to them my lord.”  Jon Stark said

 

“The tale I bring to you is a bitter one, borne of enmity and pettiness.  Your cousin’s son tried to claim the village of Honeygrove for House Blackwood. He claimed the village and it's incomes did not belong to House Bracken.  Mynar Blackwood assaulted one of the peasants who swore oaths to serve House Bracken. His conduct was dishonorable and an insult to all true knights."

 

"The village was sworn to House Blackwood, but when Raya Blackwood  wed Marcus Bracken after the Conquest the village and it's incomes were transferred to House Bracken as part of her dowry." Tytos replied.

 

"Then all I need you to do is sentence your cousins son here for his crimes and we can declare this matter settled."  Jon said calmly.

 

"And pay Ethan 50 gold dragon's,  the old man has three broken ribs not to mention  he had to hear someone threaten to rape his daughter." Henry Bracken  said.

 

"I'll give him the gold myself.”  Tytos said.

 

The Bracken lad nodded.

 

“At first light, Mynar will go to the wall for his crimes.”

 

“A fair punishment My lord.”  Henry Bracken said. Jon cleared his throat

 

“Before my squire and I take our leave, I have some advice for the both of you.  The next time your two houses have a dispute, bring it to Lord Tully or the King.  I would much prefer to come to Stone Hedge or Raventree Hall bringing smiles and good will, not fire and blood because your petty quarrel broke the King’s Peace and led to  innocents being slain.”

 

Tytos stiffened.  “Ser, our Houses have had many marriages over the centuries-

 

“I do not care.”   Jon Stark said with  the coldest growl Tytos had ever heard.

 

“I am a knight, sworn to protect the innocent.  Your petty feud means nothing to me, save for the fact that is historically has had a nasty habit of causing the deaths of innocents.  Both Bracken and Blackwood need to keep their family members in line. So the events of today are not repeated.”

 

* * *

 

“Aunt Ashara and Grandmother Rhaella both told me there’s Bracken blood in every Blackwood and Blackwood blood in every Bracken.  You think someone would tell them their practically kin at this point and to quite bickering.” Jon grumbled as they rode down the kingsroad

 

“Some families do have a tendency to  bicker. “ Lyanna pointed out.

 

Jon laughed.  “True m’lady. True.”  

 

“Do you think Lord Blackwood and Lord Bracken will heed your warning?” Lyanna asked

 

“They damn well better Lyanna. When the high lords quarrel and play the game of thrones, it is the smallfolk who suffer the most.   Both Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood are good brave men, both leal lords to my Aunt Catelyn’s father, but quarrels such as theirs makes men forget their oaths and what honor means.   Both lords are lucky, it is not Tywin Lannsiter who rules the Riverlands or he would have exterminated both houses root and stem rather than allow their quarrel to continue. “

 

Jon was silent for a few moments.   Lyanna knew her master and soon to be good brother was a brooder.   Few outsides of his family could make him smile, for he was melancholy and introverted,  but none could say Jon Stark was passionless or incapable of mirth.

 

“A knight’s sole purpose on this world the Gods gave us is to defend the innocent, It does not matter from who. It could be your own brother or sister, your mother or father, your liege lord or your king.  It does not matter Lyanna. If the situation was reversed and it was Lord Bracken’s cousin’s son who broke his oaths and assaulted an old man , I would have told Jonos Bracken the same thing I told Tytos Blackwood.   It would not matter to me that two days prior we had a fine dinner with him and his family. “

 

Lyanna pondered these words as  Jon spurred his destrier, a hybrid between Dornish Sand Steed and a Northern Stallion  to increase its pace.

 

“Is that why you don't like it when people call you “The Dragonknight come again?”  She asked him.

 

Jon smiled  “One of two reasons.  Aemon was Kingsguard, and their oaths put them in a difficult position, but that does not change the fact that he could have done something to aid those who suffered at his brother Aegon’s hands.”

 

“What’s the second reason?”  she asked.

 

Jon’s smile faded.   “He failed as a brother.  Something I hope I never do”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late! Hope you all enjoy.

 

The next  three days were mostly spent on the road.  Jon set a hard pace, pausing only for lunch and supper or to help peasants whose wagons were broken.  Lyanna did not complain about having to eat dried fruit and meat cooked over a campfire or sleeping at the foot of  great oak on a bedroll when she could be sleeping in a featherbed in an inn eating fresh pies and chops

Life in the North was hard, especially on Bear Island, which was rich in bears and trees and poor in everything else.  

Lyanna and Jon had been on the road for almost two months. When Jon had taken her as a Squire he told her he intended to take

" The long road back to King's Landing, for Prince Oberyn told me It’s a big and beautiful world we live in. You should see it while you you are free of the burdens of a woman grown Lyanna."

 

Their journey had begun at Sea Dragon Point, for Jon and Lyanna's eldest  sister Dacey wished to inspect how work was proceeding on the castle that would be their  seat. King Aegon had ordered the construction of a castle and the renovation of three of the ancient ringforts of the First Men.   King Aegon knew there would be another Greyjoy rebellion in his lifetime, and he knew the importance of a well fortified western coast.

 From Sea Dragon Point they journeyed to Castle Black, for Jon had wished to her to meet Maester Aemon Targaryen, the wisest and oldest man in Westeros.  She had also visited her Uncle, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, whom she had not seen since she was still crawling on the floor of the family keep. After that they rode across the Wall itself to Eastwatch by the Sea so they might take a ship to White Harbor.  

Their ship stopped at Karhold to offload passengers and take on supplies , so Jon and Lyanna were feasted by Lord Karstark and his kin.  During the  feast Lord Rickard Karstark’s Uncle Arnolf asked Jon to take one of his Grandsons as a squire.

Jon told him he should try sending the boy to squire for Jon’s Uncle Eddard instead.    Lord Arnolf was not pleased, but than again, the only Lord who’d taken the polite rejection of their sons to  squire for him well had been GreatJon Umber.

“Maybe in  a few years when your little She Bear is ready to be dubbed, my Ned will be ready to squire for The Black Swordsman!” the Lord of the Last Hearth had said with a booming laugh.

 

They spent a day in White Harbor as guests of Lord Manderly.  Lyanna found a kindred spirit in Wynafryd Manderly, and promised to  begin a correspondence with the green haired granddaughter of the Lord of White Harbor.  Jon had sparred with Lord Manderly’s sons and the knights under his service, for many a knight was eager to test their mettle against him and Dragonslayer.

From there, Lyanna and the man who her sister fell in love with took ship to Runestone, but enroute found themselves set upon pirates.  They and the ship's crew were able to fight off the pirates, with Lyanna killing two of the brigands and injuring two more.

Unfortunately, the ship was badly damaged and they were forced to take port near Snakewoods.   There they had been received by the haughty Lord of Snakewood, Jon Lynderly, who  hid his contempt for them under a thin veneer of courtesy.

What was worse was that he kept staring at Lyanna the way a Shadowcat would a hare.  Jon took notice of this and they did not spend the night. 

After  dinner with Lord Lynderly ,  they immediately set out to cross the river dividing the Fingers from the Vale of Arryn and set out for Longbow Hall.  From there they arranged passage to Runestone. Yohn Royce was pleased to have the nephew of his friend, Eddard Stark and his King’s younger brother as his guest, although Lyanna could not help but notice his polite disbelief at  her squireing for Ser Stark.

That polite disbelief evaporated when Lyanna reaped a fearsome tally amongst the squires in the practice yard, including a lad by the name of Harrold Hardyng who was Yohn’s own squire and ward.

Before they took their leave, Yohn Royce asked Jon to deliver some letters to  his cousin Nestor Royce, who was serving as High Steward of the Vale.  A request Jon agreed to carry out.

“Requests like this are a double edged sword  Lyanna. If I refused that would have been seen as arrogant, but my acceptance means some Lord of the Vale would dismiss me as an upjumped bastard eager to  curry favor like a bitch begging for scraps.” Jon told her

“Then why accept?”  Lyanna asked.

“Because Lord Royce is the most powerful Lord in the Vale after House Arryn,   Having him have a modicum of respect for me is a good thing. Besides we were going to visit the Eyrie anyway. ”  

They stopped at Gulltown on their way to restock their supplies.   Jon found a dagger Dacey might like,  as well as some throwing knives he took a liking too.

Later in their journey  they were ambushed by a band of Hill Tribesmen.   Jon slew seven of them, and  Lyanna slew three more,

They had another run in with another tribe a day later,   This tribe called themselves the Sons of the Mist, and their leader challenged Jon to single combat so he might claim Dragonslayer for himself.   

Jon toyed with the chieftain for a few minutes, then slew him, driving his kin into a frenzy, that drove each one of them to challenge him in single combat to  avenge him. Jon Stark fought fourteen men that day.

 

He had  killed every single one of them, with only a few lesser wounds to show for it.

 

The rest of their time in the Vale was uneventful.   They spent a day at the Gate of the Moon, then ascended to the Eyrie, and delivered the letters to Lord Nestor Royce.

Jon and Lyanna Than traveled to Saltpans and from there, to Riverrun, where Jon shared a few drinks with Lord Edmure Tully.  

 

Now they were in the rather crowded Kingsroad.  Smallfolk, Septons and Septas, and Hedge Knights were all on the way to the tourney celebrating the nameday  of King Aegon VI, and the birth of his son Jaehaerys. 

 

“Looks like a storm is coming Lyanna.”  Jon said.  Lyanna looked up, the sky was  beginning to darken.

 

“Summer storms.” Lyanna commented.  

 

Knight and squire,  guided their mounts to  a nearby inn. Fat raindrops began to fall, lightly at first, then heavier by the second.   

 

Jon gave the stableboy, three gold dragons as he dismounted.  The stable looked at the gold in his hands, than at Jon. “You’re-

 

“Yes I’m the King’s brother, are there rooms available?” Jon said, curtly but not unkindly.

“O-ne or two should be left Ser.”  the boy stammered.

“My thanks.  Best get out of this deluge yourself lad.”  Jon said. He turned and then frowned at the Inn’s sign

“The Inn of the Kneeling Man.” Jon muttered with a frown as he and Lyanna strode in, their worn boots treating across slick stone floors.  

“You think we’ve stumbled upon a bad omen?”  Lyanna whispered as she shed her cloak and sat down at  the closest table. This inn must have been named for Torrhen Stark, the King who knelt.  The thought of the spot where the North was forced to accept the yoke of Aegon the Conqueror being so close sent a shiver down her spine.

 

“Perhaps, Perhaps not my soon to be little sister.” Jon said as he went to the bar to pay for their room.  

Jon shed his cloak, unstrapped Dragonslayer and leaned it against the nearby wall. He went to pay for their rooms and returned with two tankards of cider.  He looked to the hall leading to chamber pot and scowled at the line.

“I’m going to  find a tree. Be right back.”  Jon said.

Lyanna nodded and took a sip of her cider.  She was both excited and nervous about coming to King's Landing.  She has met the royal family before, when King Aegon had stopped at Bear Island during his Royal Progress along with his brother, sister and mother.

 

That was when Euron Greyjoy had attacked Bear Island, and Jon had beheaded him.   A month after that Jon had asked Dacey for her hand in marriage. After the bethroaral was formally arranged, Lyanna had been made Jon's squire and their journey together had begun.

Lyanna had enjoyed the journey so far, but she hoped their run in with House Blackwood would be the last incident  they had to deal with.  She and Jon had had plenty of misadventures already.

 

When Jon returned, they ordered  some food.

They each had a bowl of soup, some bread fresh from the oven and  a slice of cherry pie so delicious they both asked for a second piece.

The  rest of the journey to King's Landing was uneventful.  The traffic on the Kingsroad flowed at a steady pace, and there were no more summer storms.

 

* * *

 

"I didn't know King's Landing would smell so....

 

"Shitty?  Half a million people live here Lyanna.  Believe me when I tell you it smelled worse when I came her to foster.  My brother and put the money he borrowed from the Gulltown Arryns, Tyrells and Iron Bank to good use renovating the sewage system. "

 

Lyanna tried to believe him, but she couldn't imagine the stench emanating from the capitol being anymore awful.

  
She and Jon made their way through winding streets packed with smallfolk, mounted City Watchmen, and other characters, from  a dusky skinned red priestess to a Tyroshi sword swallowers

“Make way for Lord Dondarrion!  Make Way for Lord Dondarrion!” a herald cried.

“Lord Beric!” Jon shouted with  a wave.

“Ser Stark! What a pleasant surprise!” a comely Lord with  red gold hair clad in a black tunic and bllack satin cloak line with purple silk said with a smile.

Lord Beric was flanked by a handsome lad, with blue-purple eyes and short blond hair.  He wore a purple surcoat with the sword and falling star symbol of House Dayne and a tall plump man in red robes with hair pulled back in a messy bun.

 

“I though you’d still be in Dorne with Lady Allyria?" Jon asked him.

 

“I had some business in my own lands to  settle, besides I’m here to win this tourney.”  The Lord of Blackhaven said with a dashing smile.

 

“Will you be in the joust or the melee?” Jon said.

 

“The joust.  Perhaps I shall unhorse Edric’s Uncle and your brother, our good king.”

 

“I wish you the best of luck.  What about you Thoros? Will I be having to  buy a new suit of plate because of that flaming sword of yours?”

 

“Aye.  You must be sick of me signing your pelt Targaryen Wolf.”  Thoros said with a mischievous grin.

“And you must be sick of me breaking your nose.”  Jon replied.

 

Thoros laughed.

 

“Who’s the little lady with  that axe?” He asked

 

“My squire and future good sister, Lady Lyanna of House Mormont.  Lyanna this is Thoros of Myr, Priest of R’hollor.”

 

“A pleasure.”  the priest said.

 

“You were first through the breach at Pyke weren’t you?” Lyanna asked.

 

“Aye, although I was drunk for most of that fight.”  Thoros said with a smile.

 

Lyanna couldn’t help but giggle.  She liked this Thoros of Myr.

 

Lord Beric gestured to the boy in Dayne colors. “My Lady this is my squire and future good nephew, Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall.”

 

“A pleasure my lady.”  the boy said shyly.

 

Lyanna couldn’t help but notice he was blushing.

 

“I am off to  see my brother and my new nephew.  Did either of you have any matters you wished for my to bring before our king?”

 

“Just remind Old Lewyn, he promised to share a bottle of Dornish Red  that’s been aging since Aegon V took the throne.” Thoros said.

 

“I have nothing of importance to bring before His Grace.” Beric said.

 

“ Than I shall see you both on the morrow.”  Jon said.

 

 

* * *

 

“You can speak your mind to my brother, just be polite.”  Jon said as the two made their way through the halls of the Red Keep

 

“Yes Ser.” Lyanna said, trying and failing to  fully suppress her nervousness.

 

“Relax Lyanna, this isn’t a  formal affair. I’m just catching up with part of my family, and you’re getting to know the family you’ll be part of by my marriage to  Dacey.” Jon said with a reassuring smile.

“Still carrying that hunk of pig iron I see.”  A voice with a Dornish accent said from behind them

The voice belonged to an older man, aged like fine wine and clad in the regalia of a Kingsgard.  In his calloused hands was a spear

“Still carrying that toothpick I see. Thoros of Myr told me you had a  certain bottle of wine to share with him ” Jon Stark said with a smile.

 

Lewyn Martell laughed. He slung his spear before embracing Jon in a fierce hug

 

“Is my brother busy?” Jon asked

 

“My Great Nephew is always busy.  He sits the throne of his namesake, settling disputes and hearing petitions.”  the Kingsguard said with a wry grin.

 

"I will escort you to the Throne Room.  It is good you are here Jon.  Aegon's humors have been in Ill balance and his spirits sagging since Lord Tywin and his retinue arrived two days ago.  The black hearted Old Lion all but demanded Aegon broker a betrothal between Princess Daenerys to his grandson."

 

"Has the Golden cunt  gone mad? The day my brother marries one of his kin  to a fucking Lannister is the day, a Mormont willingly marries an Ironborn.  My brother will never allow Joffrey to wed Daenerys after that nasty business at that Tourney at High Tide.  And even if he did,  Grandmother Rhaella would smash Aegon's head onto the blades of the Iron Throne for even suggesting  such a match. "

 

Lewyn let out a weary sigh.

 

"Ser Bonifer suggested House Celtigar.  Queen Rhaella would prefer a Velaryon match, as would my niece.  Rhaenys suggested Edmure Tully if Daenerys took a liking to him."

 

"And who does Dany want?" Jon Stark asked.

 

"Your cousin Robb.  Aegon has no objections. Her happiness is his main concern, but you know he had hoped your Uncle Eddard's ward and her would fall in love,."

 

Jon scowled. "That was a foolish notion.  I told him that, His mother told him that. My Uncle told him that and Lord Commander Selmy told him that."

 

"I think when Daenerys stabbed Theon Greyjoy with a fork during the royal progress he realized that." Lewyn said with a wry chuckle.

 

"Either way Lord Tywin and Viserys will be disappointed.  Not that I give a damn how either of them feel." Jon growled.

 

Lewyn looked down at the floor then back at Jon.

 

"Viserys is here Jon.  I don't want to have to haul you off him again.  There are just as many enemies in King's Landing now as there are friends and  the royal house cannot be publicly fighting amongst themselves."

 

Jon clenched and unclenched his sword hand.

 

"I understand.  Where is he now?"

 

"He is wandering the streets of King's Landing, with Ser Connington as his escort."

 

"Aegon has warned him about the consequences of his misbehavior, and he knows better than to  try you." Lewyn said calmly.

 

"Viserys is Aerion Brightflame come again." Jon said with a shake of his head.

 

"He will drink his cup of wildfire one day." Lewyn replied  as they approached the doors to the Throne Room.

 

"What has my brother done  now Great Uncle?" Aegon Targaryen said with exaggerated weariness.

 

"Nothing besides travel on horseback all the way from Sea Dragon Point to come see you.” Jon replied.

 

Aegon rose with a charming smile on his face.   The King was tall and handsome like Jon,  with the silver-gold hair and purple eyes of the blood of old Valyria.  His skin was the color of copper, a sign of the Rhoynarian blood from his mother’s family.

King Aegon was clad in a red and black tunic and doublet with the Conqueror’s own crown atop his head. 

He was the first king to  wear it since King Daeron I.  Aegon had discovered the crown buried in  an underground chamber on the lands of House Martell  during his time as Arthur Dayne's squire.

Some of the more pious whispered that this was a sign from the Seven that Aegon's rule would mark a new golden age for Westeros.  

 

Jon and Lyanna both knelt, but Aegon bid them off their knees with  a wave of his hand.

 

"There is no need to stand on ceremony." Aegon said  as he rose from the Iron Throne

.

“You’ve lost weight.”  Aegon commented.

 

“ And you’ve gained some.” Jon replied with a dry grin.

 

Aegon roared in laughter and delivered a crushing hug to his younger brother.

 

"By the Gods, Old and New I've missed you Jon."   The two broke apart.

 

“Come, you and your squire here can tell me and the rest of our family of your misadventures.   I’m sure you’ll wish to meet my son as well.”  Aegon said as he began walking out of the throne room. 

“Of course.” Jon said falling in step beside his brother. 

Aegon turned to Lyanna.  “Your future goodbrother will have an uphill battle prying him out of my Queen’s arms.” The Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm said with a wink.

“And why is that?”  Lyanna asked with all the innocence of an eleven year old maiden who was wise beyond her years.

Aegon snickered.

“My brother is one of the greatest knights in the realm Lady Mormont.  But when it comes to babies, he has a nasty habit of almost dropping them.”

Jon growled playfully and wrapped Aegon in a headlock.

“Unhand your king!” Aegon said with a laugh.

“Quite a pair aren’t they?”  Lewyn Martell said with a whisper.

The little she-bear nodded in assent as her liege lord and her master playfought like  a bunch of children in the halls of the Red Keep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets his nephew. Ashara Dayne and her brother discuss a secret regarding Jon and his fate.

"He's so small." Jon said as he looked at the babe in his arms.

 

"So were you." Elia Martell said with a smile.  

 

"I'm glad you didn't pick Baelor."

 

"What if my husband picked the name Daeron?"  Queen Margaery Tyrell asked.

 

"That depended on which Daeron he named his first son after.   Did he name him after the asshole, the asshole or the asshole? Or did he name him after the drunken asshole?"

 

"I see your time playing Hedge Knight has not dulled your wits Jon."  His sister Rhaeyns said.

 

Rhaeyns Targaryen shared her mother’s looks save for her piercing purple eyes and larger bosom. 

 

"Hand my nephew over before you drop him." Jon's older sister said.

 

Jon handed over Jaehaerys gently.

 

Save for his nose, the boy was every inch a Targaryen with his purple eyes and silver gold hair.  He gurgled happily in his Auntie’s arms. 

 

Jon could not help but smile.  Rhaenys’ husband had already given her two sons,  and Jon and Dacey would do their best to have as many children as possible.  Jaehaerys would not lack for playmates.

 

“You should visit Dorne after this tournery brother, You look like you need some sun.”  Aegon said.

 

“Perhaps I shall.  I did tell Lyanna I would show her Westeros.”  Jon said with a smile.”

 

“Just don’t get unhorsed by Elia again.”  

 

“The Queen jousts?”  Lyanna asked.

 

Aegon and Rhaeyns both laughed in unison.

 

“My Uncle has a daughter he named after my mother.  People call her Lady Lance. She unhorsed Jon at the first tilt a month or so after we were knighted.”  Aegon said with a chuckle. 

 

Lyanna couldn’t help  but laugh at the idea of Jon being unhorsed on the first tilt. 

 

Jon merely shrugged.  “I’m the Black Swordsman, not the Black Lancer.”

 

“Speaking of Black, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you wear something other than black or grey." Rhaeyns said with a gesture to his brown doublet 

 

Jon laughed. Lyanna has only seen him this happy with Dacey.

 

Lyanna  likes Jon Stark's  laughter. The few times  he laughed or smiled made her feel warm.  Made her feel safe in a way only her mother could.

 

A comfortable  silence settled over them.  

* * *

 

"You know you can't hide from him here." His sister tells him.

 

Ser Arthur Dayne  sighed and tears his gaze away from the heart tree.

 

"I know." 

 

"You need to tell him Arthur.  He will be wed soon."

 

"I know Ashara.  I should have told him when he came of age." 

 

"Yes you should  have." Ashara said.

 

"I’ll tell him everything after the tourney.  The question is, will he believe me?”

 

Ashara moved to sit next to her brother.

 

“He will. You and Ned were more of a father to him than Rhaegar ever could.”

  
  


“Will he?  Will he believe me when I tell him, that the prophecies Rhaegar was obsessed with,  the ones that led him ordering us  to help him carry off Lyanna… It’s one thing to tell someone that they were born of rape, because of madness, it's another to tell someone they were born of rape because their sire was right about the prophecies he read.”

 

Arthur sighed.

 

“Her…  Her screams still haunt me Ash.   Gods, I thought he gone mad, even there was no sign of it in his eyes.  I-”

 

Arthur clenched his fists.   “Gods why couldn’t Rhaegar have been made like his father.  Why did that fucking tree have to open its mouth Ashara? Losing his mother wasn’t enough for them?  He has to-”

 

Ashara embraced her brother.

 

“It’ll be alright brother. Jon will be alright.”

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue update.

The next morning Jon rose.  After checking on Lyanna, who was sleeping with an adorable look on her face, Jon made his way to the Red Keep's  gardens. 

 

Jon was dressed in a shirt and trousers with weights wrapped around his arms and legs.

 

 After stretching, he took the Dragonslayer in his left  hand, and began swinging it. To wield a sword such as the Dragonslayer did not just require strength in one's arms, legs and back, but it also required, immense stamina  speed and precision. 

 

Jon swung Dragonslayer up and down two hundred times with his left.  Than he repeated the same exercise with his right 

 

 _178 179 180 181 182_  Jon counted.

 

 "I thought I would find you here." A woman's voice called to him.

 

Jon lowered his massive blade and turned to face the closest thing besides his Uncle's wife he had to a mother.

 

Ashara Dayne smiled at him.  

 

"You've lost weight."

 

"As have you." Jon said as he wiped sweat from his brow. 

 

Ashara laughed.  "I was bedridden for a month  with the sweating sickness. Elia has been fattening me up on lemon cakes and fruits- she paused noticing the concern writ large across Jon's features.

 

"Jon I am right as rain You don't have to worry-"

 

The young knights expression morphed into one of anger.

 

"My apologies my lady. It's just, I don't like being reminded of the things I can't protect my family from."

 

Ashara sighed.

 

"This is about Viserys isn't it?”

 

“Aye, I have no fear of facing him or the Old Lion on the field, but Viserys is the shadow of a snake.  He slithers about, making cruel japes, eager to sink in the fangs of the weak and defenceless. He is Daemon Targaryen and Daemon Blackfyre without their chivary and skill.  He is Bittersteel without his leadership ability He knows he cannot fight me and survive, and he will not dare lay lay hands on Dany or Rhaenys.”

 

“You fear for your squire.”

 

“Lyanna is a fierce little thing.  She’s killed plenty of men bigger and stronger then her.  But I know Viserys.” Jon said.

 “You fear he will try and hurt her.”

 

“Aye,and when he does, all hell will break loose.”

  
  


When Princess Rhaeyns invited her to afternoon tea.  Lyanna expected to be bored of her mind.

 

She did not expect to be laughing so hard.

 

“He really was that serious, even back then?”

 

“Hard to  believe that about my youngest brother?  Aegon thinks its because he was raised up North instead of with us like he should have been.” Rhaeyns said with  a sip of tea.

 

Lyanna sat across from the older woman and her ladies in waiting and cousins.  All of them were her Uncle Oberyn’s daughters, beautiful and deadly clad in a mix of men’s clothes and gowns of sheer silk. 

 

Lyanna felt very plain in her solid green dress and breeches.  Jon’s sister was very beautiful. She wwas dressed in a red and orange gown and sapphires and rubies.  Her hair carefully arranged and threaded with gold and silver. 

 

“Forgive my rudeness, my lady, but I do think that Lord Eddard was well within his rights to take his sister’s son back to Winterfell.”

 

“This one has a sharp tounge.”  One of the Sand Snakes said as she popped a grape in her mouth

  


“I see why my gallant brother likes you.”  Rhaeyns said with a wicked smile.

 

“Gallant? More like a bloodthirsty savage masquerading as a man.”

 

“Oh hush Nym, your just jealous Jon refused to share his bed with you.” Her sister Obora  said.

 

Nymeria blushed.

 

"Tell me Lady Mormont, did Jon speak of his time in Dorne?"  Tyene Sand asked her.

 

"A little.  He told me Dorne is the closest thing to a paradise...  And to hell. Even in Winter one can boil an egg in the sun."

 

Tyene giggled softy.   "He developed such a nice tan there.”

 

Lyanna couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a tanned Jon Stark.

  
  
  


Jon was not happy.  

 

"For a man as clever as you are. You're not very good at Cyvasse." Aegon said.

 

Jon  took a swig of ale.   The Umbers had gifted Aegon a hundred  bottles of their finest ale, something both the King and his brother had deeply appreciated.

 

"Cyvasse is not where my talents lie Aegon."

 

"No, they lie in carving people apart with a sword and charming beautiful women into your bed with that brooding demeanor of yours ." Aegon said.

 

"I do not brood Aegon." Jon said.

 

"Come now brother, it's past time  you admit it. You brooded for three days before you asked for my permission to wed this Mormont girl who stole your heart. And you brooded for another three days before you worked up the courage to ask her for her hand." Aegon jested with a smile.

 

Jon chuckled dutifully.  "Alright perhaps I do. That's proof I'm your brother. I brood like our sire."

 

Aegon laughed a dry melancholy laugh. 

 

"Speaking of sires. You seem to be taking the role of father to that squire of yours.  I mean no offense, but will you start adopting more children like Ser Davos?"

 

Jon laughed.  Ser Davos was know  for his fatherly airs and taking all sorts of  children under his wing.

 

"No, but Dacey and I will commit to having as many children as possible.  As for Lyanna, she is the youngest daughter of Dacey's mother. Taking her to squire fulfilled my need for one, will benefit her immensely, and sooth the pride of Lady Mormont, that unintentionally stung by making me Lord of Sea Dragon Point and creating a new cadet branch of House Stark.

 

Aegon winced. Maege Mormont was a hoary old snark.  The Mormonts were not a large or wealthy house, but they were a proud one. To have her home judged unworthy as the seat not just of King's brother, but the son of her liege lord's beloved sisters had hurt.

 

But one did not turn the offer of marriage to the King's son because of stung pride.  And Maege Mormont could not deny the economic and military importance of a revitalised Sea Dragon Point.  Nor the honor of a role in the founding of the first cadet branch of House Stark in centuries.

 

"Enough of Cyvasse Aegon. Tell me of this bethroaral between my Aunt and beloved cousin."

 

"Despite what Viserys and my detractors say, not every idea of mine is really my sister or mother's.  Dany is quite besotted with your cousin, and a marriage between the two would not only be a way for House Targaryen to officially apologise for the… circumstances that led to your birth dear brother,  it would allow The Pact of Ice and Fire to be fulfilled. Let it be known Lannisters are not the only one who pay their debts. Tywin Lannister and his bitch daughter can choke on his entitlement. One does not make demands of a dragon. Especially when you tried to have the dragon murdered as a babe."

 

Jon laughed.  "I cannot wait to see the expression on his face."”

 

Aegon raised his ale.   “To a happy marrigae between our beloved Aunt and Lord Robb, and to making the old Lion of Lannister choke and sputter.”

 

“I’ll drink to  that.” Jon said. 

  

  


Lyanna watched in rapt attention as the king and his brother sparred.  Both grunted and cursed, as Dragonslayer and Spear met and sweat poured from their brows.

 

The two were evenly matched, but Jon held the edge in stamina, and the superior weapon.   

 

Lyanna  wanted to  fight like that.   Jon told her he would teach all he knew,but he did tell her part of his effectiveness was in part due to  Dragonslayer.

 

“This sword, isn’t just an oversized chunk of Valyrian Steel created as a sign of wealth,  It was made to give a mortal a way to slay a dragon. Think about that for a minute Lyanna.”

 

Lyanna did so.  Having seen its grisly effectiveness, against a regular person, she could very well imagine it tearing a chunk out of a dragon.

 

Two more swords joined the Fray.   The Sword of the Morning was now sparring against both his former pupils, The Greatsword Dawn in one hand, a plain arming sword of Dornish make in the other.  

 

Aegon smiled, while Jon grew even sterner.   Jon was not like most Northmen,who fought with  a cacophony of curses and laughter. He fought in silence.  He killed in silence.  

 

With a flick of his wrist, Arthur Dayne disarmed his King and held Dawn to his throat.

 

The King yielded and stepped aside.   Lyanna watched in rapt attention as Jon adjusted his stance and Arthur Dayne loosened his wrists.    Jon’s first blow shatters the arming sword, Ser Arthur wields. The Kingsguard rolls out of Jon’s second blow and brings Dawn up in a ready stance

 

Left, Right Left Right,   The Dragonslayer and Dawn slammed into each other.    Lyanna couldn't help but notice the contrast between Arthur Dayne in his polished plate and white cloak and her soon to  be brother in his black leather and ringmail. Dawn seemed to glow like the fallen star it was supposedly forged from., while Dragonslayer was smoke and shadow

 

Dragonslayer was both Jon’s sword and shield.   Its’ width and length, denied Aruthr his agility and reduced the number of angles he could attack  from. Yet Dayne had taught Jon everything about how to wield a sword and had the edge in experience.  He pressed Jon, always attacking, not even being forced to parry would deny his relentless strikes.

 

But Jon does not flinch, he does not falter.  He blocks and counters, blocks and counters. His face is grim, but Lyanna swears there is a joy in his eyes.

 

The blades clash again and again, their ringing having long sense shattered any serenity in the royal gardens.

 

The duel ends with Dragonslayer paused in midswing.  The massive blade is a few inches from Arthur Dayne’ shoulder.   Had the blade’s arc continued, the Sword of the Morning would have been cleaved in half.

 

Yet if Dawn had continued its thrust, the milk-white blade would have entered Jon's heart.

 

Ser Dayne frowned, while Jon’s face was now set in a grim smile.

 

“A good bout.” Jon said simply

 

“Indeed.  You’re time playing hedge knight seems to have done you good.” Arthur Dayne.

 

The Kingsguard glanced at Lyanna for a moment then turned back  to Jon.

 

“You’re mother would be proud of you.”  Arthur Dayne said softly

 

Before he could say anymore, the Red Keep’s Steward, Cullen Celtigair strode into the royal gardens.

 

“Your grace.  Prince Viserys, is here.  He has... requested your presence.”

 

“More like demanded.” Aegon said.   His energy seemed to deflate. He looked at Jon, than his wife.

  


“My love, pore some of my that Arbor Gold before I meet with  my… _beloved_ Uncle.”  Aegon said.

 

He turned to his Steward.   “Inform the Prince of Dragonstone, he is to  meet me in my private quarters. If he argues, tell him it is  an order from the head of his house, and his King.”   

  


* * *

  


With shaky fingers, Aegon poured himself three fingers worth of Estermont Scotch.

 

The doors opened, and Viserys strode in as if he was Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.  “Nephew, I have important matters to  discuss with you.” Viserys said in what the Prince of Dragonstone thought was commanding tone.   “I’m sure you do Uncle.  Take a seat.” Aegon replied.

 

Aegon found it hard to believe he was once afraid of Viserys.    His Uncle was tall and dressed in fine silks and satins. He was every inch the blood of Old Valryia,  handsome, lilac eyed and silver hair. Yet his good looks was Viserys’ good quality. He was cruel, cowardly, arrogant.  T _oo much like his father._ His Grandmother  had said in a broken voice.  _Aerion Brightflame come again_   The servants and smallfolk muttered.

 

Viserys pulled out his ridiculous gold lined sachet and sniffed it before sitting down.

 

“That traitor Lord Arryn isn’t getting any younger.”

 

Aegon sighed.

 

“I have conferred with  your mother and mine own. Lord Arryn will be retiring as Hand to return to the Vale after my son’s nameday tourney. Lord Stannis is to succeed him as Hand,  with Lord Commander Seaworth taking his place as Master of Laws. Ser Jaime recommended his friend Ser Adam Marband to assume command of the City Watch, something I am considering, for the time being.”

 

Viserys shook his head.   “Traitors all of them. I told you you should have had them all executed long ago. Especially Stannis.”

 

“After out Grandfather’s tyranny and my father’s…. Misdeeds, the realm’s wounds had to  be bound up. Otherwise House Targaryen would have been deposed and my namesake’s deeds would have been for nought.”   

 

Viserys scoffed.  “A Dragon can do as he likes.   Name me your Hand Uncle, and take Lord Stannis’ head to  remind the traitors and would be usurpers of the price of disloyalty.”  


“I would sooner name my sister’s cat Hand than you Uncle.  Tell me what qualities beyond kinship would make you fit to be my Hand?”

 

“I am your heir-”

 

Aegon drained the scotch in one go, savoring the burn.  


“My son is my heir.  You are Prince of Dragonstone, your role is to aid your mother and your good-father, Ser Hasty in managing the Crackclaw Point houses.  Rhaenys is my advisory, my left hand, my Mistress of Whispers Jon is my sword and shield, as Baelor Breakspear was for his father. Now that I think about it,  if he wanted the role, I would have made him my Hand.”

Viserys' face scrunched up in  anger.  When Viserys got angry, it made him look feverish and impossible to take seriously.

 

“He is a bastard born of a whore who seduced your father-

 

“  He is my brother.  A dragon can do as he likes.”  Aegon  replied with a smile as he helped himself to more scotch.

 

Viserys bristled.

  


“Amway, enough talk of councils and Hands.  It’s past time you and your sister were wed.   To further invest the North in the continuation of our house,  tomorrow I shall announce that Daenerys is to be betrothed to Robb Stark.  You are to begin searching for an appropriate bride,not of a Dornish Reacher House, or a family from the Free Cities, I understand this process will take time, but I expect you to have some candidates by the end of the tourney, the sooner you are wed the better.”

 

Viserys opened his mouth to protest.

 

“There will be no more discussion on the matter Uncle.  I expect you to bring honor to our house in the joust or the melee these next few days.”

 

Viserys rose, his jaw clenched.  He turned to leave

 

“And one more thing Prince Viserys.  It would be wise of you to stay away from my brother and his sweet, fierce little squire.  We wouldn’t you ending up like Lord Tarly, now would we?” Aegon said as he drained another glass of scotch. 

 

Viserys nodded and left.

  


Aegon let out a breath of frustration mixed with  exhaustion.

 

“Ser Jaime!”  the King yelled to his sworn protector.  “Have your squire, summon your brother and my good-father to my chambers.  Ser Connington and my Uncle Oberyn as well. There’s more of this Estermont Scotch left than I realized and It would be selfish of me to drink it alone!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the start of the fic actually being a crossover with Berserk, so brace yourself.
> 
> Also have some Braime, I'm nice like that.
> 
> And before you ask, no, Joffery is not an incest baby, he's Stannis and Cersei's

 

Thousands had come to the Tourney celebrate the name day of the King and his young son.  This tourney meant many different things to many different people, for the knights it was a chance for glory and a champion’s purse, for the smallfolk, it was a break from their toil, save for those who ran the brothels and inns and taverns, who hoped the amount of coin, they’d make would compensate for them being overworked for a few days. For the High Lords, both the one who rose  arms against House Targaryen,and the ones who stayed loyal, this was a sign of much needed stability in the realm. One more step on the long road to reassuring them that the mistakes of Aegon V, Jaehaerys II, Mad King Aerys and his son Rhaegar were not repeated. 

 

There were mutterings about the succession though.  King Aegon, was a strong, vigorous young man, but if he died, it would mean another Queen Regent for many long years.   And if something were to befall the Toddler Prince Jaeharys, that would mean the Mad King’s other son could claim the throne, something that lords and ladies and smallfolk would not tolerate.  But even if Viserys were gotten rid of, that would mean Aegon’s sister Rhaeyns would become queen. Queen Regents were one thing, but a ruling Queen? Princess Rhaeyns was bad enough when King Aegon let her sit the throne, in his and the Lord Hand’s absence! Not to mention that husband of hers who made no effort to  restrain her behavior. The only thing worse than Princess Rhaeyns ruling would be if the King’s beloved bastard brother claimed the throne for himself.   

 

* * *

  
  


Dacey Mormont was going to marry the kindest, most beautiful man in the world.   

  
  


Jon Stark cut a dashing figure in his black surcoat and studded leather.   e wore a gorget emblazoned with the sigil of House Stark, as well as a bronze torc.  His hair is carefully washed and oiled, and worn down rather than in the simple bun. Jon’s cloak is cloth of silver, and black wool lined with  crimson silk and a wolf pelt draped over the shoulders. The cloak itself was fastened with two golden clasps wrought in the symbols of House Targaryen and House Mormont.   Jon used the original three headed dragon symbol, the one Aegon the Conqueror used for his royal standard.   

 

 Although he viewed himself as just a Knight, and did not think too highly of himself, Jon carried himself with a somber, yet roguish majesty, that sent shivers of pleasure through Dacey.  His brother Aegon carried himself the same way. For both were creatures chained by duty and love, forever yearning to hunt, to dominate and conqueror. Their lust for life burned in the eyes,  Aegon’s a blazing fire, Jon’s an icy storm.     

 

“My lady.”  Jon says as he kissed her hand.

 

Dacey can feel the eyes of everyone in the Royal  box on her.

 

“My love.” Dacey replies.  “I trust my sister is enjoying the adventures you’ve roped her into?”

 

“She is.  Lyanna has not been remiss in her duties as my squire.  She will be a great knight one day.” Jon tells her as he moves to greet Maege Mormont.  He embraces her mother warmly, for Jon’s respect for mothers is deeply ingrained in every bone of his body. 

 

Some lords began muttering, what kind of “duties”  a girl of eleven could be doing for the Targaryen Wolf.   Fools, the lot of them. Dacey thinks as she surveys the crowd of nobles.    The Small Council is here, as well as lesser lords. Queen Rhaella and her husband Ser Bonifer  sit near Olenna Tyrell, while the Princess Daenerys sits near her Aunt Rhaenys and her husband, Andrew Bar Emmon who has his daughter Baela on his lap. 

 

Cersei Baratheon is already drinking and the tournery has not yet begun.  She regards Dacey with barely hidden contempt when Queen Margerry invites Maege and her to  sit.

 

“Shouldn’t your squire be here Ser Stark?  Surely Lady Mormont would wish to see her mother and sister, after being separated for some time?”  Cersei asks pleasantly.

 

Jon regards her thoughtfully.

 

“She is preparing for the Squire’s Tourney,  Your Brother and Ser Brienne were both kind enough to offer their help in the matter.”

 

That knocked the smile off of Cersei’s face. 

 

Maege,  Queen Margaery and her grandmother suppressed a snort. Lord Tyrion, raised his wine glass in salute.

 

Save for his brother and his Aunt Genna,  Jaime Lannister was not on good terms with his House.  In the aftermath of killing King Aerys, Lord Tywin suggest Jaime be sentenced to join the Night’s Watch as punishment for oath breaking by killing Aerys. But be released from his vows as  a brother of the Night’s Watch as a reward for saving the city from King’s Landing from being destroyed by caches of wildfire.

 

Jaime had refused.   “Crippled or whole, a Kingsguard serves for life.  I will die, a brother of the White Swords, or a brother of the Night’s Watch if the Queen Regent commands it.  Either way I will die as the Kingslayer. And as a knight.” he had told Queen Elia and Queen Rhaella.

 

Jaime had remained in the Kingsguard.  To add further insult to injury, it was he who suggested to  Queen Elia, that his brother serve as Master of Coin. When Tywin was summoned to  pay fealty to Aegon when he came of age to assume the throne, Aegon had told him,   

 

 “You should be proud of your son Tyrion,  Lord Tywin, he has served me well as Master of Coin, and will continue to serve me well not just as my adviser on the Small Council, but as Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West.”

 

But that was not all Jaime had done to  rub salt in the wound he had inflicted upon his house.   At the melee held as part of his nephew’s name day tourney he had been defeated by a Mystery Knight named Brienne of Tarth.

Rather than argue, the champions purse should go to him because a woman’s place was not to fight in tourneys,   Jaime had knighted her on the spot. Ser Brienne not only won the Melee that day, but in the jousts she broke seven lances against Ser Osmund Kettlleback, and crowned Lord Stannis’ eldest daughter Shireen Queen of Love and Beauty over Cersei or her daughter Myrcella. It was at Jaime’s recommendation Brienne became the Princess Rhaenys’ sworn shield, and rumors abounded that were it not for his vows as a Kingsguard, Jaime would have wedded the Maid of Tarth.

 

Such rumors infuriated Lord Tywin. To suggest his eldest son, his golden heir that Aerys stole regretted staying true to his Kingsguard vows because of an ugly wench, who was unusually good at swordplay and  not because those vows denied him his rightful place at Casterly Rock as Tywin’s only worthy heir was ludicrous.

 

“I am sure your squire will be a worthy opponent for my son.”  Cersei said. Her husband ground his teeth. Jon felt sorry for Stannis Baratheon.  His first wife dead, his eldest daughter scarred by Greyscale. Forced by duty to remarry a woman he was utterly incompatible with and came to loath.  One son, a mad, spoiled brat, the other a sweet but timid fool. Even being made Hand of the King was a poor salve for the injustices life had dealt Stannis Baratheon.

 

“I’m sure Joffrey has been training just as hard as Lyanna has.”  Jon said with a smile as dry as the dunes of Dorne.

  
  
  


Arthur Dayne could not help but smile as he watched Jon’s squire unhorse boy after boy,   He had taught Jon and Aegon all he knew on how to be a knight, and Jon had imparted both Arthur’s hard earned wisdom and the wisdom of his Uncle Eddard onto little Lyanna Mormont.

 

“I fear for my father’s sanity if you were to come to Dorne with her.” Arriane Martell said with a smile.

 

“I concur with my niece, the amount of mischief she could make, with my daughters.  I almost shudder to think of such things.” Ellaria Sand said.

 

“Do you now?” Jon said with a wry smile.   “ Yet my sister says some time in Dorne would do my squire and I some good.  Perhaps I shall come, Perhaps I shan’t. Maybe I will bring my Cousin Arya along as well, and little Rickon and relive Aegon and I’s escapades before we both came of age and we were saddled with beautiful women and responsibilities like producing heirs and dealing with unjust men and women.” Jon said as he kissed Dacey on the cheek.

 

“Now I will not sleep a week a good Ser.” Oberyn said from beside his paramour.

 

Elia Martell giggled.

 

“It seems I must light a candle for all of Dorne now, Your Grace.”  Solmen, but good Ser Bonifer Hasty jested

 

“Oh hush Bonifer we both know, Prince Oberyn played no small part in my grandchildren’s escapades.”  Rhaella said.   

 

“You have no one to blame for your nightmares of such  a thing, but yourself Prince Oberyn. After all, it was you who corrupted my sweet grand-babies, with that forked tongue of yours, whispering poison in their ears.”  The Lady of Dragonstone and Dowager Queen said with mock sternness.

 

“You wound me, Queen Rhaella.” Oberyn said coyly.   “I only helped guide your grandsons along the path of manhood, and that path goes to say many different places.”

 

“So it would seem.” Rhaella replied as she tossed a date into her mouth.   

 

“You should come and visit The Reach Ser.Visit Oldtown, come to Highgarden for the tourneys and end of summer festivals.” Margeary said as she rearranged Jaehaerys on her lap

 

“I would not pass up such an opportunity my Queen. Though I hope the good Lord Florent would not take offense if I did not stop at Brightwater Keep.” Jon said.    

 

Ashara Dayne found herself blushing,  while Aegon let out a bark of laughter.

 

“Speaking of Florents, dear brother the Lady Lyanna just unhorsed one.” The King said with  a dry smile

 

“You seem to have taught Lady Lyanna good deal about jousting.” Tywin said with false gregariousness.   

 

“I taught her how to be a Knight, my Lord,  Just as Ser Dayne, Ser Selmy, your own son and the rest of the Kingsguard did for me. Although truth be told, I learned just as much on how to be one from my Uncle, and Lord Reed,  Ser Bonifer and my grandmother. Queen and Elia and the Lady Ashara provided valuable lessons as well. Jousting does not make a knight, a good heart, and knowing one’s duty will invite conflict from friend and foe alike does.”

 

“But surely a man with a… reputation as yourself would not deny the importance of Skill at Arms.”  Cersei interjected.

 

Poor Lord Stannis, grinded his teeth and looked like he was about to die of embarrassment.   Dacey’s heart went out to the poor Storm Lord.

 

“Aye, I will not deny combat training and battle experience play a role in making a knight.  I had Lyanna baptized in blood against the tribesmen of the Vale. One does not speak of war unless they have slain  a man felt their blood spatter across their face and tasted it on their lips. One does not speak flippantly of the death of innocent unless they have taken up arms to protect innocent lives from evil men.” Jon said as he fixed Lord Tywin and his daughter with  a stony stair.

 

“A knight’s purpose is to defend those who cannot defend themselves,  There was a reason when the King and I were Squires, Ser Arthur and the both of us spent a great deal of time going from town to town, village to  village. One must understand the people they must protect and rule over. Our Grandmother's grandfather understood this better than anyone. A knight, a Lord and King's duty is to the people, otherwise they are useless, and all the songs and gilded armor and legendary swords are naught but paperweights and wall decorations.”  Jon said.

Neither Tywin nor Cersei had an answer to that.

 

* * *

  
  


Lyanna’s heart pounded in her chest as her final opponent trotted up on his destier.

 

Joffrey Baratheon.   He was a year older than Lyanna , but he was as tall as a man grown.  Unlike his siblings Tommen and Myrcella, who possessed the blue eyes of her their father and blonde hair darker than  the usual Lannsiter golden Blonde, Joffrey looked nothing like his father. If anything he was the spitting image of Ser Jaime as a boy.

 

Joffery wore crimson armor with the Baratheon Stag emblazoned in solid gold on the cuirass. Unlike Lyanna’s who wore a half-helm, Joffery  wore an antlered greathelm in the style of the Stormlands that made him look ridiculous. Everything about Joffrey screamed  _ Look at me!   _

 

The squire regarded Lyanna like she was shit beneath his foot.  His wormy lips made a mocking smile at her that her made as angry as she was afraid.   If she lost to someone like Joffrey..would Ser Stark want her as her squire? No she was being foolish, she had unhorsed everyone so far. There was no reason she could lose.  She’d make Ser Stark proud. She’d make Dacey proud and she’d make mother proud.

 

Lyanna hefted her lance and spurred her horse.   On their first pass, her lance broke against his shield, while his lance slid across her shoulder guard.  Lyanna turned her horse to grab another lance. On the second pass, Lyanna was almost unhorsed. It became painfully away to the little she-bear she could not match the older squire blow for blow.  She was smaller than him and he had more physical strength to bring to bear. But Lyanna’s small size could be an advantage. As the two squires,made their third pass, Lyanna dropped her shield and shifted herself. Clinging to  the saddle of her garron with every bit of strength in her tiny frame, Lyanna angled her lance upwards. The Lance struck true, Joffrey was sent flying backward and landed flat on his ass, Lyanna let the lance fall, as she heaved herself back up into the saddle.  He breath came sharp and fast. Never before had she felt so exhausted. Had not the crowd’s roar of approval, been so invigorating, had not the exhilaration of victory filled her bones, she would have slumped in her saddle.

 

* * *

  
  


Brienne of Tarth smiled as the crowd cheered for Lyanna Mormont.

 

“That’s my Girl!” Maege Mormont boomed.

 

“Shame Podrick lost to her, I knew how hard he had been training for this tourney.” Jaime said.

 

Brienne could feel Cersei and Lord Tywin’s glare on the both of them.   They both ignored it.

 

“Lady Mormont had a bit more experience when it came to fighting outside the yard.  Not to mention Ser Stark’s a better fighter than the both of us.” Brienne.

 

“I am proud of Podrick though. Third place isn’t bad for one’s first squire’s tourney.” Jaime said.

 

“Not bad?” Brienne said with an arched eyebrow.

 

“I won my first squire’s tourney.”  Jaime said with a smile.

 

Brienne shrugged. “Not everyone is a natural talent like you Ser Jaime. And you forgot Ser Stark is a better fighter than you Not to mention-

 

“Don’t say he’s better looking than me Ser.  I might shed a few tears.” the Kinglsayer said with a smile as white as  cloak.

 

“In a more rugged way. Not to mention the sword helps” Brienne replied.

 

“I still can’t believe he can wield that hunk of iron.  And I was there when he pulled it out of its niche on Dragonstone one handed.”  Jaime replied as Aegon rose to congratulate Lyanna on her victory and bring the first day of the tourney to a close.

 

* * *

  
  


_ How could this happen? _ Cersei thought as the half dornish sot clapped the bastard that should have been smothered in his cradle on the back.

 

She shifted in the chair to see her brother, talking with the ugly creature in man’s mail he had left her for.

 

“I think you should spar with the Mormont girl tomorrow one woman warrior to another,” Her brother said.

 

“You should do the same. Both Lady Maege and Dacey are fearsome fighters.”

 

“They’ll do well for a warm up I suppose.”  Jaime said.

 

“A warm up? You think all the times i’ve bested you would have knocked some humility into you.”

 

“You’re speaking to a Lion wench.  We are proud creatures, we do not concern ourselves with the opinions of the sheep.” Jaime said as they followed their King out of the Tournery box.

 

Cersei wanted nothing more than the strangle that ugly Maid of Tarth, and that rose from Highgarden who had stolen what should have been Cersei’s.  Oh if only Stannis have been less virtuous. Why was he so damn loyal to the Dragons who had killed his brother?   

 

“Joffery did not disappoint me.  He will do better in his next tourney.  Ser Davos’ sons performed admirable as well. Lady Marya will be very proud of them”  Stannis said as he took her hand in his.  

 

“If only Joffrey had been allowed to squire for my brother, he would have not lost to a girl the size of a drowned rat.”

 

Her husband grinded his teeth. It took all of Cersei’s self control not to open his throat for that irritating habit of his.   

 

“You’re brother had plenty reason not to take our son to squire, it would not have made a difference,  Lady Mormont may have been a child of one and ten, but she was trained by Ser Stark, a far better knight than your beloved brother.”  

 

Stannis sighed.  “If Joffrey does not bring shame to our house, like he did at the Tourney at High Tide, I will request the King take him to squire.  I have served him loyally, and my brother is one of his Kingsguard.”

 

Cersei smiled.   “All I want is for my son to get what he deserves. Husband.”

 

“He has gotten plenty of that already.”  Stannis growled.

 

* * *

 

Jon sighed as he knelt in front of the heart tree.

 

Two years ago, Jon  suspected he had succumbed to some form of Targaryen Madness, just in a much slower way  He would never admit this out loud, but as he grew to manhood, life seemed duller outside the clash of steel on steel, and the shedding of blood.  As much as he enjoyed taking Lyanna under his wing, drinking and playing cyvasse with Aegon, he felt more alive, more warm, when he was taking lives then when he was making love or spending time with his family.

 

That’s why he clung so firmly the ideals of True Knighthood, and why he loved Dacey so much.  They gave him purpose, kept his wrath and desire focused. Madness was fire, but unlike Viserys, Jon knew he would not his to burn him.   Everyone else saw what they wanted to see. Most saw Daemon Targaeyn and his bastard namesake, the Black Dragon come again, a hero and a villain. Aegon and Rhaeyns saw a brother.  Lyanna saw a Knight and the big brother she never had. The Florents thought him Brandon of the Bloody Blade come again, but Dacey loved him for himself, madness and all.

 

Jon turned as  Arthur Dayne walked into the  Godswood.

 

“You’re late to whatever you summoned me for.”  Jon said.

 

“Forgive me,Jon.  What I am about to tell you, I had to  work up my nerve.”

  
  
  


“You’re nerve?”  

 

Arthur Dayne walked to him steadily, unflinching, but with fear in his dark eyes.

 

The Sword of the Morning moved to  sit beside him.

 

“I know the topic of your… Sire is an uncomfortable one.  But there are things regarding him that should have been told to you a long time.  Thing regarding, Rhaegar’s rape of your mother I should have told you when you came of age.”

 

Jon regarded with him a cold look.

 

“Do not tell me-

 

“Rhaegar was obsessed with prophecy.  Everyone knows that. But when you were born.”  Arthrur cut him off in mid sentence. The Kingsguard looked at the heart tree with utmost hatred.

 

“Your Uncle brought you here, to the godswood.  Queen Elia and Rhaella, my surviving sworn brothers. We gathered here after Tywin was put in his place to discuss how to put back together a realm torn apart by fire and blood.”

  
“And this fucking tree  _ Sang _ Jon.  It sang the  prophecy Rhaegar was so obsessed with.  The one that led… to him ordering us to assist him in kidnapping and raping his mother.  This heart tree sang the song of Ice and Fire, the song of Blood and Guts.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Jon have a candid discussion regarding Rhaegar Targaryen and the Song of Ice and Fire. Jon and Dacey consummate their marriage early

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I have known many gods. He who denies them is as blind as he who trusts them too deeply. I seek not beyond death. It may be the blackness averred by the Nemedian skeptics, or Crom's realm of ice and cloud, or the snowy plains and vaulted halls of the Nordheimer's Valhalla. I know not, nor do I care.  
> Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of white arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content.  
> Let teachers and philosophers brood over questions of reality and illusion. I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content."  
> — the original Conan talks about his idea of what is best in life

The survivors of Rhaegar’s folly met in the Godwood.

 

It would be a long time before the wounds inflicted by a Mad King and his  son healed. His queen held his King in her arms. Elia was tired, but determined,  She by all laws of Westeros its rightful ruler. She was Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm until Aegon was old enough to be crowned.  There would be regency council, no more lickspittles and festering corruption. The rebels would be pardoned and forgiven, Jon Arryn and Stannis Barathon would be invited to small counci.

 

No there was just one more matter to be settled.

 

What was to become of Lyanna Stark’s son?   Lord Stark’s household guard and companion guarded the boy day and night.  He never left Lord Stark’s sight. When Lord Stark and the Kingsguard had returned to the capital.  Lord Stark had gone so far as to force the babe to swallow a tiny piece of bread and salt and keep him in his arms even as he hammered out the terms of reconciliation for the rebels

 

“The boy is to be legitimized.  He is to be a Stark. I have lost a sister, two brother and a father to House Targaryen.”  Eddard told eElia 

 

“And why should I do that Lord Stark?” Elia said.calmly.   

 

“Because my sister was just a much a victim of Rhaegar Targaryen as you were Your Grace.  She did not ask for a crown of Winter Roses.”

 

“But why should I give this boy any scrap of legitimacy? He could be another Daemon Blackfyre.  We in Dorne remember that the loudest yelps for the Black Dragon came from those who hated Dorne with all their heart.  Already many lords who claim to be friends of my dead burning in the Seven Hells husband and only want the best for Aegon whisper of enduring the rule of a woman.  Of how their will be another half dornish King ruling us. Loudest are those whispers from the Reach. And the Westerlands… Lord Tywin wanted me dead. He was waiting for me to die so his insipid daughter could giving him a Lannister grandson to rule over Westeros..  So tell me, why should I let another bastard be crowned king and make war upon my son’s house?”

 

“ Your Grace,  I seem to recall saying my nephew is to be legitimized as  a Stark. I don't recall saying I want him to be a Targaryen”  Eddard coldly.

 

“Mind your tounge boy-” Old Lord Commander Hightower.

 

“Be silent  _ False Knight _ .”  Eddard Stark snarled.  “When a wolf speaks, the curs listen.   I have heard enough talk. I will speak. I will be heard and you and your Queen shall listen.  Open your mouth again and I will take your head as I should have done when I arrived to that accursed tower.  You draw breath by Lady Dayne’s words and mine own sister’s dying words. Your Queen and her children live because unlike you and your fellow oathbreaker, I seem to have been one of the few who recalled a Knight’s duties was to the innocent. Did you forget it was I who saved your Queen from Gregor Clegane?”

 

“These are my terms. Queen Elia. You will legitimize my nephew as a Stark, as pers my sister’s dying request. I will send him to page and squire for Ser Dayne so you will see you have nothing to fear from him. If this is not done…. Well I don’t think my new goodfather would mind if his grandson grew up to be a King. A King in the North is still a King.   House Targaryen has few true friends. I have thirty two thousand Northman here who would follow me into Hell and back. The North Remembers Queen Regent. It remmbers that my sister’s rape and murder at the hands of the Prince of Dragonstone, was just one of the many many injustices House Targaryen has commited against The North and her people.”

 

“You would start another war for you bastard nephew?”  Elia Martell asked.

 

“I would start and fight and  **_win_ **   a thousand wars for my nephew and family.” Eddard Stark said calmly

 

Arthru looked at the sleeping boy in the young man’s arms.    It was hard reconciling the man who stood before them with the blushing stuttering boy who shared a dance with  his sister.

 

“Your Grace, Lord Eddard speaks harshly.   But truly. This is not a hill worth dying on.” Arthur said.    Arthur looked to Jaime Lannister who had come at Elia’s orders.  His brother was shifting uneasily.  

 

“And he is right.  The Kingsguard, all of us but Ser Jaime are false knights.  We stood outside Prince Rhaegar's door while he raped a girl. He was Crown Prince, but not King.  Standing out King Aerys’s door was one thing but even that … I…..we…. “ Arthur sighed.

 

“We listened to Rhaegar because we loved him, and he was unworthy of our love and devotion.  We listened to his talk of prophecy. Of Ice and Fire. It was evil dressed up in love and heroism.  A pretty madness.”

 

Saying that broke Arthur’s heart. 

 

Everyone was looking at him with gaping mouths.  For a second Arthr thought they were looking at him.   Than he realized they were looking at the heart tree. It’s mouth was open, its eyes baleful and red  They were fixated on the babe in Eddard Stark’s arms. 

 

“ _ The Struggler.” _ The tree said in a haunting, melodic voice that sounded  both male and female.   

 

Before anyone could the tree began to sing a song.  Not just any song, but a song, Arthur had heard sung once before.  A song he had seen written in the ancient scrolls, a man he once considered a friend had poured over 

_ “Robbed of a mother’s love at birth _

_ left to drown in blood. _

_ he was to die beneath her corpse. _

_ Meant to rot in a cesspit of despair, _

_ born to die as a waste of air. _

_ Raised as a child one shorn of fate _

_ in a fit of rage _

_ He, knows a violent destiny _

_ will await, only life by sword shall reign.” _

 

Rhaegar Targaryen had sang that song once. It was at Summerhall, month before the Tourney at Harrenhal. 

Arthur Dayne looked at the babe asleep in Eddard Stark’s arms, then to Elia and his sister. He turned to Oswell Whent, who was the only other person besides him in the godswood whose jaw hadn’t dropped at the very real chance the Gods had just spoken to them.

A rage unlike any other flooded Arthur’s veins.   He drew Dawn and began hammering the physical sign of the Old Gods with his ancient blade. 

 

“Fuck you Rhaeger!” The Sword of the Morning screamed.

 “Fuck your prophecies, Fuck the Old Gods and fuck whatever they have planned for this boy!”

“Arthur!”  his sister yelled.

“Damn you! Damn you! Damn you to blackest pits of the Seven Hells Rhaegar!   You knew how everything would play out didn’t you?! You knew this was going to happen! You played her. You played her and me and everyone like that fucking harp of yours. You didn’t give a damn about anyone or the Seven Kingdoms. All you cared about was your FUCKING PROPHECIES!”

“Arthur stop!” His Queen commanded. Arthur ignored her.  He drove Dawn through the face of the tree. 

With  a roar of anguish, Arthur yanked  the sword out and flung it to the ground    He fell to his knees , his eyes wet with tears. 

“Why…. Why…. Why dammit?”  

 

Arthur looked up at the tree.  Nothing remained of the face, only red sap that oozed down the bark like honey.  To Arthur’s amazement and horror, When the sap finished its descent to mingle with the grass and earth, the weirwood face was intact. It’s mouth closed and eyes no longer glowing.

“You’ll be needing this. Ser Arthur.”  Arthur raised his head and saw Ned Stark holding Dawn. 

“I am no longer worthy to wield it.  I should have struck Rhaegar down with it, not used it to-”

Ned belted him in the face with the hilt.  Arthur grunted in pain as for the fourth time in his life his nose was broken.

“I will not have a knight my sister begged me with her dying words to  ask if he would take her son to squire sobbing and crying. You want redemption? You want to make amends for heping Rhaegar murder my sister?  Teach Lyanna’s son all there is about being a knight. After that you can go to the Wall or hang yourself for all I can.” Eddard hissed. He jammed the sword forged from a fallen star into the soft earth. 

Arthur rose and grasped Dawn with  a new purpose.

_ I failed the mother. I will not fail the son . _

 

* * *

 

Jon stared at the heart tree and laughed.   

“Grandmother Rhaella I can understand, but all these years you’re still defending him. Still trying to twist his actions into something  pure and noble. He was mad Ser. He was mad like his father. Like Viserys and myself.”

“Do not speak to me of madness Jon,  Viserys, and Rhaegar were nothing like their father.  He was truly mad,and before that, he was cruel and full of spite.”  Arthur said calmly.

“Than don’t tell me shit I already know.    A cesspit of despair? That’s Westeros. That’s why their’s knights like you and I. We make the world a little bit better before we leave.  _ Men bleed.  Women bleed.  Everyone bleeds, everyone dies.   _  The god’s sang that truth to you in their pretty song.”

 

“ You understand what i’m telling you-”   Arthur began. “I understand you think my Gods, the gods of my mother and Uncle and family wanted Rhaegar to rape my Aunt. ”  Jon said calmly.

“I refuse to accept that.  I refuse to accapt thatthe Gods meant for Rhaegar to rape and concieve me.   He chose to do that. I did not choose to be born, but I did choose what kind of person I’d be. I can’t accept that it was destiny that made those choices for me. I chose to be good, when I could have hateful.  I chose love over bitterness. I chose to be the best Knight, the best brother and husband I can be.”

"Jon…  I know this is hard to accept but what I'm telling you is the truth.  I know you’ll never forgive your father what he did. And truth be told I find it hard to reconcile Rhaegar with his two sons I was honored to train and dub.  I only know that the Gods have a plan for you. ” Arthur said 

“When I was a few years younger than yourself, my predecessor as Sword of the Morning once told me.  “If fate is a millstone, then we are the grist. There is nothing we can do. So I wish for strength. If I cannot protect them from the wheel, then give me a strong blade, and enough strength... to shatter fate."

Jon smiled grimly

“I’m not as strong as you Arthur. But I have a strong blade.  Strong and sharp enough to shatter fate. The Gods said “Only life by sword shall reign” when they spoke to you did they not?”

“They did. But you're wrong about one thing Jon.” Arthur said  “And what is that?”

“You’re stronger than me Jon.  Just like your mother was.”

Jon stared at the Kingsguard, than embraced him.   

 

“Thank you for telling me this.”  Jon said.   

“ I should have told you earlier. I-”

“Just shut up before you ruin the moment Arthur” Jon replied  “I was unaware we were having one. “ Arthur snarked back as his eyes watered with tears

Jon  released the Kingsguard.   “We were. Did you tell Aegon this as well?”

“Elia told him, and your sister when he came of age.”  Arthur answered.

“I see. Well that saves conversation.  I will have to tell Dacey, of course. She is to be my wife, there must be no half truths and secrets between us.”

Arthur was not sure how the She-Bear who had stolen Jon’s heart with  a morningstar and a smile would take Jon telling her that the Old Gods had some kind of plan for Jon.  For the son of the woman he failed’s sake she hoped she would understand.

 

* * *

 

“If it came from the lips of any other man. I would say they were mad or touched in the head” Dacey Mormont said as she pulled the furs and silk sheets around herself.

 

“I am half Targaryen, My love. And I have had my fair share of head wounds.”  Jon replied 

 

Dacey laughed. “What Arthur told you I already knew.  The Gods have some kind of plan for you, my dragonwolf.” Dacey said with a teasing glint.

 

“And what would those plans be?” Jon asked her    “A life.  A good long life made by blade, blood and fire.”  Dacey said.

 

“ The Gods are good, Jon Stark.  They’ve been good to you. To me and my House and yours.”  She licked her lips as she pulled the knee length shift over her head.

 

“Their going to be especially good to me tonight.”

 

She mounted him and kissed him.  Their tongues mixed as Dacey went to tug off his smallclothes.    “Whatever happens.  We face it together.” Dacey said.   "Together.” Jon breathed as his cock hardened.

 

“Maybe by the time we say the vows, they’ll be a babe in my belly.”  Dacey said.

 

Jon rolled her over and entered her.  Dacey made a little cry of pain mingled with pleasure. " If its a boy we could name him Arthur.” Dacey moaned as Jon began to thrust.   “And if its a girl?” Jon asked.  

 

“Visenya? Rhaenyra? Maybe Daena?” Dacey supplied.

 

Jon laughed

 

“Serena?” he suggested   “ We could name her Lyarra.”  Dacey said. She gasped as Jon increased the pace of his thrusts.  

“So many choices. I think we’ll just have to have a lot of babes so we can use as many of them as we can.”  Jon said. 

 

I’d like that. We can have the boys squire for their Uncle Aegon.  Maybe have one of the girls be your Aunt Daenerys cupbearer at Dragonstone. Foster another son or daughter with the Mountain Clans and another at Last Hearth with Smalljon.” Dacey said as she raked her arms across Jon's back.

 

“Getting ahead of ourselves. Aren’t we My Lady?”  Jon said. He grunted as he climaxed. Dacey squealed as his seed filled her.

 

“Never too late to plan ahead.” Dacey gasped.   “I like Howland as a name. Theo too.” Jon said as he pulled out of her.

 

Dacey smiled.   “That would make your father happy.”

 

“And what about your mother? Should we make a Maege of our own? Maybe a Jeor too?” Jon said huskily

 

“That would make me very happy.” Dacey said as she snuggled close to her future husband. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjY5b6wdm8Q
> 
> This is the song that inspired this fic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Melee Commences.

 

Viserys emptied his wine glass.  He could not wait for Aegon and his Dornish bitch mother and his sherwish whore form Highgarden  to die screaming.  

 

In the morning light of his chambers, he ran his hand over the Behelit

 

Just a little longer. Just a few more days, and he would be King.

 

A few days after that, he would be more than a king.

 

* * *

  
  
  


Rhaenys smiled as she arranged Baela on her lap.  “Wave to Uncle Jon.” Rhaeyns cooed in her daughter’s ear.

 

“Ja! Ja!” Baela babbled.  Her twin Rhaena and brother Aelyx joined in as well.

 

Her husband laughed.   “I’m glad your brother isn’t in the joust.” 

 

“Me too, he’d make a fool of himself jousting.”

 

Andrew laughed.  “That would make people less frightened of him.”

 

“As if you have not made a fool of yourself jousting.” Rhaeyns teased

 

“In my defense it was to Ser Bonifer not a little girl,” The Lord of Sharp Point chuckled.

 

“I wonder which old man shall unhorse you in this one.  Ser Barristan? My grandfather? My uncle? My Great Uncle?”

 

“Probably Ser Arthur if the tourney bracket is any indication.” 

 

Rhaenys giggled.

  
  
  


 three hundred ninety nine men and one woman were participating in the melee  for Prince Jaehaerys name day.

 

This melee was the be a grand, bloody free for all between men from all seven kingdoms in Westeros

 

And it was in such chaotic combat that Jon Stark excelled in.

 

* * *

  
  


Lyanna watched as her mentor carved a trail of destruction through  the ranks of combatnant. She took particular pleasure as Jon bashed in the face of a Harlaw, maternal kin to Lady Asha Greyjoy, Queen Rhaella’s ward and handmaiden to her daughter Daenerys .  

 

Lyanna  wanted to  fight like that.   Jon told her he would teach her to fight like he did, but he did tell her part of his effectiveness was in part due to  Dragonslayer.

 

“This sword, isn’t just an oversized chunk of Valyrian Steel created as a sign of wealth,  It was made to give a mortal a way to slay a dragon. Think about that for a minute Lyanna.”

 

Even without the Dragonslayer, Jon was still death made manifest. He wielded a bastard sword with murderous, relentless precision.

 

"You know someone once said  my brother was the Stranger in the body of a man?" King Aegon said.

 

“Having seen Ser Stark fight and kill too many times I can very well believe it.” Lord Tyrion said as he poured himself a glass of wine.    

 

"The Blood of the Dragon is strong in all my grandchildren." Queen Rhaella said proudly.

 

"I know many call him Daemon Blackfyre come again. But Lady Lyanna's son is another  Aemon the Dragonknight." Oswell Whent said quietly.

 

"He hates being compared to him." Lyanna said before she realized she had spoken aloud 

 

“Why would someone hate being compared to the truest knight whoever lived little one?”Lady Cersei asked with  afalse cheer that masked her sneer 

 

“Jon told me Ser Aemon failed at being a brother. Something he hopes he never does.”

 

Cersei made a polite scoffing sound.

 

The crowd roared as Lyanna’s mentor defeated Greatjon Umber, than moved to engage Garlan Tyrell.  Jon’s blunted blade dug into the big, reachman’s shield, Jon pulled the sword out, and turned it over in his hands and began bashing at Garlan with the hilt.

 

“Does he think he can beat my brother with brute force?” Margaery asked incredulously

 

Aegon laughed.  ‘He’s not my queen.  Watch what he’s doing, He’s beating my brother with that sharp mind of his.”

 

Margaery watched as Jon pushed Garlan back, the pommel smashing into Garlan’s shield,  than his helm. The two knights were outside the sea of bodies, near the wall of the yard. 

 

Jon knocked Garlan’s greathelm off, than swept his legs out from under him.  The crowds roar intensified, as Garlan yielded to the Targaryen Wolf.   Jon helped the knight to his feat, than pivoted to slide back into the melee, 

 

“He’s almost as fast as my Uncle was in his prime.” Queen Elia commented.   “You wound me niece.” Lewyn Martell said with a chuckle.

 

“He has to be fast, its the only way to  wield that hunk of pig-iron.” Ser Jaime commented 

 

“My brother trained hard to attain that level of speed.  He’s even faster unencumbered by Dragonslayer” King Aegon said with dry smile.

 

“Why did  House Targaryen have such an obscenely large weapon in its vaults? Why, not melt it down to make more Valryian steel weapons?” Cersei asked in  a nasally tone. 

 

The King and Lord Stannis both grinded  their teeth in unison.

 

“You’d have to ask Daenys Targaryen.   The old scrolls make mention of how the blade was forged by an old hermit,  to kill dragons. Aenar Targaryen's brother was the blade’s last wielder before my brother.  As for melting it down. Maegor the Cruel ordered it, but no matter how hot the fires were stoked the blade would not melt.  Not even the flames of the Black Dread could melt it."

 

"Truth be told, I don't know why Jon chose such a weapon. True he was partial to bastard swords and Greatswords, but I thought  he was jesting when he picked that sword up." Aegon Targaryen said as he poured himself a goblet of wine

 

"I suppose the competitors should be grateful  he is forbidden to wield Dragonslayer for the melee." Oswell Whent said softly.

 

"I don't  think Prince Oberyn is feeling grateful at the moment.” Lord Commander Selmly commented as Jon shattered the Dornishman’s spear with a single  swing of his blunted sword. Jon may not have been a huge man like the Greatjon, but the strength his limber frame possed was frightening. 

 

Arthur laughed.  “Damn fool should fought in the joust.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


The melee continued for another half-hour, Lyanna was enraptured as Jon bested foe after foe.  Thoros of Myr, Yohn Royce’sons, Ser Gerold Dayne, Greatjon Umber Victarion Greyjoy.  None could stand against him for long.

 

None but Ser Brienne of Tarth.  The Sworn Shield of Princess Rhaeyns, matched Jon blow for blow, her mace against his bastard sword.

 

The two were the last standing, everyone also lay groaning on the packed sand or had limped away in defeat.

 

Both’s warrior’s faces were matted in sweat and blood,  desperation for victory lended their weary limbs strength and speed.

 

Ser Brienne, knocked the bastard sword from Jon’s hand, than slammed to head into his chest.  Jon went down.

 

“Yield!” Ser Brienne called.  Jon groaned, than rolled onto his belly.   He snatched up an arming sword, than another one.   He loosened his wrists by twirling the blades, than reversed the grips 

 

‘That's-”  Ashara Dayne said in surprise

 

“The Art of the Falling Star, an avalanche of blows with twin arming swords,.  the footwork alone takes years to master.”  The Sword of the Morning said in reply. 

 

“He must have observed your moves.” Jaime said.   Ser Arthur grunted.   

 

“Everyone’s observed my moves.” The Kingsguard replied evenly.

 

Jon  smiled, then hurled the sword in his  right hand at her like a javelin. He lunged at the Knight,  stabbing at her chest plate, than breaking her nose with the pommel of his sword.  Brienne dropped her mace and stumbled back. Jon pressed his attack, only for Brienne to bash Jon with her shield. Jon went flying back and landed flat on his ass.  Jon rose shakily as Brienne drew her longsword and advanced towards Jon.

 

The Targaryen Wolf smiled and countered with renewed fury and redoubled effort. He laughed as he and Brienne’s swords clashed.  For every strike he dealt Brienne. He took two or three in return.  

 

“The girl’s already lost.” Lord Commander Selmy said with  a sigh.

 

Jaime was quick to defend the young woman he had knighted. “And what makes you say that Ser? It seems to me that Brienne is about to knock Ser Stark into the dirt again.  his speed’s flagging.”

 

“Is it? Even exhausted, and having taken down multiple men of High Caliber such as Ser Lewyn’s nephew, and Thoros of Myr, he still has the edge over Ser Brienne of Tarth in speed.  He has weathered a storm of pain, the best she can give with blade, yet his wounds do not hinder his ability to move, and strike and weave. Jon has made her nervous, for his feint with the Sword of the Morning’s signature techniques and that his clouded her focus."

The Lady Lyanna’s son is strong and quick, but do not fall for his “Northern fool” act like your sister my brother. The boy’s mind is sharp as that oversized monstrosity he slays false knights with. He has a an adaptability to match that Stark stubbornness of his. And as Good Queen Rhaella said, the blood of the Dragon is strong in him.” Barristan the Bold replied

 

“The struggler indeed.” Arthur Dayne muttered. 

 

“Still, all the raw determination in the world, cannot have him endure indefinitely.   Even with a second wind and his immense reserves of stamina, I do not think he will keep parrying and countering Ser Brienne’s strikes.  His body is well hardened and tempered, but his foe is relentless, and has a Shield too. The only debilitating wounds Ser Brienne has is that swollen eye, Rolland Storm gave her and her aching shoulder from one of Ser Stark’s attacks.  No doubt he intends to divest her of her shield. Than gamble everything on a single strike.”

 

“Aye.” Ser Bonifer said.  “The Seven blessed the Princess’ sworn shield with great strength in compensation for her homleyness, but it does not match the strength of her heart and character.  She fought more foes than Ser Stark, and her physical power is weakening. Her will wavering. She will throw down her shield and roll the dice on a single strike to earn a second victory against the Black Swordsman.”

 

Ser Jaime appeared unconvinced.

 

“A thousand Gold Dragons on Brienne.” He said. 

 

“Your Pappy gave you a thousand gold dragons? I could have sworn you were disowned and disinherited.” Oswell Whent japed.

 

“No, but he has a very handsome brother who even though his father wished he could disown, disinherit, and decapitate, who does.” Tyrion said.

 

“Two thousand on my goodson.” Maege Mormont replied as she squinted at the two Knights circling each other  Brienne of Tarth had indeed cast off her heater shield. She gripped her sword in two hands, just as Jon did. 

 

“Frugal jackanapes the lot of you. Twenty thousand on The Black Swordsman.” Olenna Tyrell huffed. 

 

“Someone is eager to recoup their losses I think little bear.”   Ashara Dayne said with a wink to Lyanna.       

 

“Thirty Thousand on my sworn shield.” Rhaeyns said. 

 

“Ja! Ja!” Aelyx Bar Emmon said.

 

“Thirty Thousand, on my wife’s brother.”  Andrew Bar Emmon replied.

 

“Do you really wish to sleep in  a cold bed My lord?” The Old Falcon Jon Arryn said with  a chuckle.

 

“Forty Thousand dragon’s on Ned’s nephew.”

 

“I do hope if you win that much money you put it to good use, My Lord Hand.” Aegon said with a smile.

 

“I always put the money I win to good use Your grace.”

 

* * *

  
  


Jon’s body ached, sweat stung his eyes, his limbs were screaming at him.  Yet he never felt more alive.  he raised his sword in salute, than assumed a ready stance, hefting his blade horizontally, Brienne charged him like a bull, 

With a simple rotation of hip, Jon disarmed Brienne, The blunted sword,went tumbling out of h.er grip Jon's blade scraped across her curaiss knocking Brienne back.  One of the toughest foes Jon tried to rise but he leveled his blade at her throat.

 

"A good bout.  Now yield Ser." Jon said.

 

The Maid of Tarth, stared at Jon with fury ablaze in her blue orbs, but did as Jon bid.

 

Jon tossed the blunted sword down and extended his hand.

 

Brienne didn’t take it, here big blue eyes were wide with fear.

 

“Behind you!” She screamed.

 

Jon turned to see a mass of fat and mail bearing down on him, a wicked looking dagger clutched in his hand   The fool’s Ryman Frey, Greatjon Umber had made use of him as improvised club when the Lord of the Last Hearth had fought Jon earlier in the melee. Jon was more amused than annoyed the tubby weasel was somehow still on his feet, let alone somehow finding the balls to get back on his feet and draw a knife on him,

 

Jon must have been more exhausted from fighting Brienne than he thought because instead of catching  Ryman's knife arm by the wrist, the dagger exited the back of his hand.   Jon snarled.  This blade wasn't  castle forged steel.  It was rippled dark and spell forged .  A relic of Valyria, or reformed weapon from someone hunting down Maesters who had studied the higher mysteries. 

 

Judging  by the tingling  and the unnatural, unwelcome, warmth that flooded his body, the weapon was poison dipped too.   Jon's right hand shot out to seize Ryman's head.  Jon yanked the Frey close, his thumb digging into the disgusting sot's eye.  Jon felt it squish like a grape. 

 

"Viserys or Tywin?" Who put you up to this?!" Jon rasped.

 

"I won't talk!" Ryman wailed.  The fat Frey bucked like a mad horse.  He tried to let go of the dagger but Jon tightened his grip and pressed his thumb deeper into Ryman's eye socket.

 

"Than what good is that throat of yours if you don't use it" ? Jon asked in a low growl.

 

Jon  pulled the shrieking, squirming,man close.

 

"I guess you don't need yours than. That's good. _It's been a while since I tasted weasel._ " Jon whispered.

 

* * *

  
  


The crowd gasped in shock and horror as Jon Stark sank his teeth into Ryman's throat. 

 The two knights collapsed, Jon lifting his head to spit out a chunk of suet.  Then he hunched over the Frey who stabbed him and took another deep bite. Ryman flailed and wailed in ear-splitting agony. He bucked beneath the Black Swordsman,  than he went very still.

 

Jon rose on shaky legs. The Targaryen Wolf's lips and chin were stained red, his eyes ablaze with fury  He turned to face the royal box. Jon yanked the dagger embedded in his hand and tossed it to the ground.  Than he bent over and vomited. Lyanna's mentor broke into a coughing fit. Blood dribbling from his lips to sprinkle his vomit and mingle with the blood of Ryman Frey that coated his lower mouth.

 

Than Jon Stark collapsed face first in a puddle of his own vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait... The I'm going to be generous and assume I have seven people who've subscribed to fic. For those who have left a comment or kudo, or subscribed, I deeply appreciate your patience.


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